The Controller Chronicles
by S.P. Bley
Summary: Sullan 348 is in trouble with the Yeerks, and will be killed on his next visit to the Yeerk Pool.  But when Matt steps up to make the ultimate sacrafice for both Sullan and his host, the Yeerk begins to reconsider his loyalty.


Author's notes: Call me weird, but this was my own little animorph story that I thought about when I was a kid. And me being the weird little kid I am, I did a story about a "good" Yeerk and his host. It was a good idea then, and, now that I know what I'm doing, it is a good idea now. As always, read and review.

Chapter 1: The Judgment

_Matt… _

My name is Matt. Just Matt. No last name. I have a last name, but I won't tell you. Too be honest, my real name isn't Matt. Sorry, but I don't have the liberty of trusting you with my real name. Before I begin my tale, I want the free world to know these are dangerous times. On his death, Hamlet told Horatio to tell his tale truly and to let him be judged according. I want those who are free to know, I did things for the greater good. I sold my soul to the devil himself, for the greater good of the human race. I hold no regrets. This is my tale. Told truly for you to judge. Pass it on, tell it truly. Both the good deeds and the bad, so that I may be judged accordingly.

I am what you might call a controller. I'm not sure if that is the right word, seeing as how I don't control a thing. I'm host. You see, there are these aliens called Yeerks. Horrible little icky slugs of aliens. Really, they are the most pathetic creatures you ever saw. No eyes. No sense of touch. No sense of taste. Just smell and hearing. Pathetic. It is hard to imagine a creature like that being a threat to the human race. But I guess we tend to forget about the black plague. That was a smaller creature. These aliens, they enter your head through your ear. From there, they wrap their bodies around your brain, into every crevice, and interface with your mind. Then, you have nothing to hide. It learns all your secrets. All your memories, all your dreams, and all your fears. It is seamless, he learns your name. He becomes you. And nobody, outside those you meet in the hell known as the Yeerk pool and the two you in your head, are wiser to the change.

My Yeerk is different. As am I. We were trained to be a witness. To spy on the Yeerk forces. I was saved at the last minute from becoming a truly horrible monster. My Yeerk, Sullan 348, is a member of a resistance group. The only way either of us could survive was to form this weird relationship. On some days, I hate him. He is a monster who won't let me experience the simplest joys of life. On other days, he is my best friend, consoling me when I am unsettled. On others, he is the most brilliant traitor the Yeerk race has ever seen, and is the last hope for humanity. Weird. He and I will torment each other to no end, but when the chips are down, we have each other's backs. Not bad for a slug.

My name is Matt. I was a lonely kid. Freshman year in a new town in a new state. It was a humbling experience. I wanted friends. I had friends, and I wanted them to come here, but that wouldn't be the case. More important then that, I wanted a girlfriend. Someone should have just warned me right then and there that I was getting over my head. I'd do anything to be with her. Anything included joining some Boy Scout group called the sharing. But I digress.

You want my tale, and I will tell it, truly I will. What you need to know, is that no matter how terrible my actions may seem, I did it for the greater good. I did it, so that humans may be. So that the race will survive. I will not, do not, and can not say that they were human, but they were for our survival.

It all began on the first day of high school. Remember that feeling of being all alone in a brand new school? How about being all alone in a new school in a new town? Needless to say, my day was miserable. I went from class to class, stared at by all the people who were familiar with everyone else. All of them had made friends, and were just changing schools. I had no friends, and changed schools. It didn't help that I was a tall kid for my age. I stuck out as being new.

It wasn't until math class that I saw her. She walked into the room and sat down besides me. Maybe you don't quite understand the significance of that, but she sat down besides me. A gangly, scrawny, new kid, who everyone else had already labeled nerd. Looking back on it, I'm not sure she always had that confidence. If I had known then what I knew now…

"My name's Amanda," She told me, offering her hand to shake.

"Matt," I replied, both in voice and action.

"I like that name," She told me, "no doubt after the one of the saints."

"My dad, actually," I told her, "could have named me Mud and it would have been kinder."

"You sound like I used to," She told me, "when my mom died, I was a wreck. Contemplated joining her, you know. My friend had me go to a meeting of the Sharing."

"And?"

"I'm here," She beamed, "they really showed me that my life could have a purpose. That I could be some one great. Plus they have good food."

"Free food," I joked, "where do I sign?"

"There's a meeting tonight if you want to check it out," She informed me as the teacher came in to begin the lecture.

"When and Where?" I whispered.

She took out a pen and scribbled something down on a piece of scrap paper. In red ink, it read: _Beach, 8 o'clock. _

I still have that note. I keep it to remind me of how it all started. Following your heart be damned, I was a fool for trying to impress her. Not a day goes by, where I wonder how much she was screaming at me not to go.


End file.
